I Know You Can Hear Me
by trufflemores
Summary: Another installment in my "The Black Flash's Daughter" series. "Nora stares at the monstrous being lying amid the branches, Its great unmoving form alien to her. She waits, reflexively, for Its chest to rise again – an action It has only ever performed for her benefit, and not out of necessity in Its other realm of living – yet nothing happens."


**Author's Notes:** Hello, everybody! I haven't updated my ffnet page in a while, so these fics are long overdue. I hope you enjoy them! (If you want to stay up to date with my stories, I always upload them to AO3 first.)

"Come out, come out wherever you are."

Nora walks beyond the reach of the city, chiding the empty space, "I'll wait all night if you make me. I know you can hear me."

The answering breeze is cool and unsympathetic. Sighing, she hitches her thermo-jacket closer to her chin and adds belatedly, "Please?"

Silence, but for the wind in the leaves. Nora walks steadily, unerringly, through the dense copse of trees. Her feet crunch quietly over the earth. Her breath comes rhythmically. She will wait all night, all week, all year if she must.

It does not make a sound, but she senses Its arrival. Her shoulders slouch in relief. She turns to greet the Black Flash – and reels at the sight. "What happened to you?" she demands, alarmed, as the Black Flash slumps against a tree. Unconsciously, she surges forward. The Black Flash's clawed hand digs into the thick bark of a tree; Its substantiality seems perilous against the evening breeze. Aching to prop It up, Nora says anxiously, "I thought you couldn't get hurt."

A thick sound, a hissing, a wheezing, a rasping of metal on stone cuts the air. Nora covers her ears automatically, retreating. Without looking at her, the Black Flash reaches back, curls Its immense claws around an unseen object, and pries It free. The sword, heavy and menacing against the Black Flash's trembling hands, slides to the ground, clattering quietly. In the darkness of the night Nora sees the red light reflecting off Its blade. The hairs on the back of her neck rise. The only illumination comes from a waning silver moon – and it cannot account for the surreal effect.

Sickness wells in her throat; Nora presses a hand over her mouth, horrified. "Oh my God," she says, and looks at the Black Flash as It buckles, sliding down the tree beside the mortal weapon. "No, no, no, come on, get up, you have to get up," she urges, kneeling beside It, shuffling forward, careful not to touch It. "You have to get to the Speed Force."

Dull white eyes look at her, expressionless. A hand reaches upward, settling over Its heart; It pats It once, gently, their unspoken sign for _I love you_. Tears well in Nora's eyes. "No," she says fiercely. "Get up. Come on, you made it here, you can get up." A tear trickling down her cheek, she adds in a choked voice, "Don't do this. Please, don't do this."

The Black Flash breathes deeply, silently, bowed forward in agony. It does not bleed; It cannot speak in the mortal realm. Nora still knows that It is in unspeakable pain. She sobs, getting as close to It as she dares – unable to touch It; she'll die if she does – and pleading, "Get up. Run, Dad. Run."

A hint of a smile curls the Black Flash's lips, almost concealed beneath the suit. Nora feels tears trickling down her face but does not brush them away. Watching It, enraptured and horrified, she sees the fight drain out of Its limbs. Without strength to hold on, It relinquishes Its grip on the tree, collapsing with an incongruous _thump_ to the forest floor. The ground trembles underneath It. Nora trembles with It.

"I – I can take you," Nora says, desperate, grasping at straws. "I can take you to the Speed Force. I can—"

The Black Flash lifts Its head to gaze at her, fondness and resignation glowing in Its soft white eyes. Nora reaches for It, but with obvious effort It lurches backwards, crashing into a thicket of branches. The desperate act saves her: instead of self-annihilation, there is only the crackle of twigs as It lands.

Without a sound, the Black Flash dies.

* * *

At first, the ringing in her ears paralyzes her.

Nora stares at the monstrous being lying amid the branches, Its great unmoving form alien to her. She waits, reflexively, for Its chest to rise again – an action It has only ever performed for her benefit, and not out of necessity in Its other realm of living – yet nothing happens. She waits, desperately, for Its eyes to glow white again – a sure sign that It sees her, offering her Its undivided attention across a timeline that demands Its awareness – yet nothing happens. She waits, anguished, for Its body to disappear again – in the knowledge that It has returned to that place of safekeeping – yet nothing happens.

Slowly, she comes to the abominable realization that _nothing is going to happen_.

Tentatively, hand shaking violently, she reaches for It. An action forbidden across the entirety of her life, the contact is surreal. The first thing she notices is that It is cold, relentlessly cold, the inverse of living, breathing, heat-loving beings. She draws her hand back reflexively, burned by the contrast, before hesitantly allowing it to settle on the Grim Reaper's unmoving shoulder. It's like holding onto an ice cube, and she allows the contact for as long as she can bear before releasing It once again.

On the third attempt, desperation penetrates the fog of disbelief: she grasps Its shoulders and tries to shake It, wake It, anything to gather Its attention once again. There is so much bulk to the Monster that her efforts prove negligible; It does not rise or respond to any of It, barely twitches under her most fervent actions. She hunches downward, pressing her ear against Its chest, aching for something impossible. All she finds is stillness and silence.

Weeping, she gathers the Black Flash in her arms, hugging It to her shoulder like she can endow It with her own life. The effort is futile, and as she rocks and cries, she becomes more and more aware of the reality before her. The Black Flash is dead. The Black Flash is dead. The Black Flash is _dead_.

It doesn't make sense to her, and hysteria threatens to overtake her grief. She lets It go and says aloud, "This can't happen." In a tone almost rebuking, she repeats thinly, "This _can't_ happen." She looks around, aching for intervention, but nothing changes. "Why are you doing this to me?" Reaching for It, she hauls Its arm over her shoulder. Fury ignites the lightning in her veins, and she strains upward, hauling It.

Her concerted effort yields nothing: the Black Flash remains cemented in place, too heavy to lift. It carries the grief of countless souls, the burdens of a trillion lives – all imprinted on It in stillness as in life. Exhausted, she relinquishes her hold and allows the world around them to dissolve into nothingness, slowing to stillness.

A part of her genuinely believes that she will find It standing in front of her, having beaten her to the land beyond living once again. It always beats her – no one can outrun Death. Yet the Speed Force is empty, cavernous and silent, and she feels a chill sink into her spine. "Dad?" she calls out.

A world materializes in soft edges and brushstrokes, a simple scene: illuminated in golden dusk light from the windows, her desk at the CCPD forensics' lab appears. Immaculate, It reflects the life she left behind – removing all traces of herself from the scene so she could disappear properly – and the one she longs to return to. Her heart burns with yearning as she steps forward and takes a seat. She thinks about the hours she spent in this chair, relentlessly trying to solve the world's problems.

A clock begins to tick on the wall. Nora turns to it and the rest of the lab melts into being – the wooden walls and piles of electronic casework stacked neatly in their shadows. It smells faintly like rock dust; the echo of long-lost conversations resonates from the floor below. She listens with idle wonder to the conversations, trying to discern the words. But they blend meaninglessly in her memory, and so they appear here: impossible to recapture.

She looks around, taking it all in and wondering what the Speed Force is trying to tell her – when, at last, a figure materializes in the doorway. The yellow suit, the glowing red eyes – before he makes a single movement, Eobard Thawne is recognizable across the ages. In his left hand, he carries the red sword, power radiating from every muscle fiber connecting steel to flesh.

Coldness fills Nora's belly. She has to take a breath. "How?" she asks, the same childlike curiosity tinging her tone even as dread begins to manifest. "How did you—"

Eobard swings the sword in a long, slow arc, allowing it to refract poisonous red light across the stage set between them. " _Do you know what happens when you conquer Death?_ " he asks instead, his voice vibrating, inhuman. A grin spreads across his lips; there is nothing friendly in it. " _You become immortal._ "

Nora can't swallow the lump in her throat. She tries to speak above the gnawing fear. "Why would you kill him?"

" _It_ ," Eobard corrects savagely. " _Your father died twenty-five years ago, and that Demon has haunted you nearly as long. There is no connection between the two of them. The Speed Force_ lies." Vehemently, Eobard swings his sword and cuts the wooden wall in half, dissolving the scene, plunging the space into darkness. Only the glow of their respective light keeps them from sinking into the Abyss. " _It's mortal, like the rest of us. It's fearful. It protects Itself through grandeur alone._ "

Shaking her head – refusing to believe it – Nora says softly, "No."

" _Did you think It protected you? Kept you at arm's length to keep you safe?_ " Eobard sneers. " _What does one child's life matter to the Speed Force?_ "

There is something bitter, something terrible, something unspeakable written under the lines. Nora wills herself to hear the message – to understand the man she thought she knew – even as she steps backwards. His advance is a slow, subtle movement, but she has nothing to distract her. She doesn't miss it. "You're a liar," she says, longing for her own sword.

" _Any child could kill the Black Flash with this_ ," Eobard continues, unperturbed, turning the sword over, allowing the light to shine and dim along its edges. " _This blade wasn't made by the gods. It was made by human hands. It was forged in our world. It's nothing more than a piece of reinforced steel bombarded with tachyons. Tachyons._ " He laughs. " _Faster-than-light particles. The Speed Force was only useful until we outsmarted it. It's time we put it back into its place._ " Eobard crushes the sword into the unseen earth.

With a rumble of thunder, the scene around them collapses, revealing the forest. Eobard lofts the sword with the ease of an instructor. " _Did you listen to It out of respect,_ " Eobard asks, pointing at the dark form beside him, " _or fear?_ " Without waiting for an answer, he steps towards the Black Flash, jamming the sword into Its back.

Fury burns out Nora's hesitation, and she Flashes forward, knocking Eobard aside in the second of surprise that crosses his face. She doesn't grab the sword or its former wielder; instead, she puts herself in front of the Black Flash's inert form, legs planted, immovable as the earth itself. Eobard rises with patient movements, dusting himself off casually. " _You live or you die by your strength alone_ ," he counsels. Nodding at the Black Flash, he finishes, " _The illusion of immortality only persists until we kill it."_

Shaking her head, Nora says in a low, heated tone, "You're lying."

" _There is nothing mythical about the Speed Force_ ," Eobard counters ruthlessly. " _No more than gravity. Once you see past the magic, you realize how weak it is._ " He steps forward, reclaiming his sword. There is no blood on its blade. " _How helpless._ " He gazes dispassionately at the Black Flash. " _Did you think It was ever capable of love?_ " Looking right at her, he adds, " _Your memories don't love you._ "

"He wasn't a memory."

" _I killed the man,_ " Eobard says. " _And I killed the Monster. Do you see, Nora? Do you see how fragile your entire world is?_ " The point of the blade levels at her throat.

Nora can't speak. She stares at Eobard and sees the monster in him. Stepping back uneasily, she looks down at the Black Flash.

It happens instantaneously.

Eobard swings the blade around, and a clawed hand catches it, white eyes boring into its wielder. Shock registers on Eobard's face as he beholds the Monster in the flesh once more, Its towering form resolute, Its black suit bearing two new stab wounds.

Without malice, the Black Flash crushes the end of the blade, releasing the tormented weapon and leveling blank eyes at its wielder. Nora steps back unconsciously as the tension builds between them, a storm waiting to burst, two speedsters assessing the impossible odds – who will move faster?

It isn't a contest.

Eobard doesn't flinch or cry out when the Black Flash's hand curls around his own, prying the hilt from lifeless fingers. Nora does not see the event unfold: she only sees the aftermath as Eobard crumples. The lightning retreats; the tension vanishes with it. Heart pounding, speechless, Nora watches as the Black Flash picks up the sword and looks at her, assessing.

Ignoring entirely the still form on the forest floor, the Black Flash holds it out to her, hilt-first.

The thought of possessing a powerful weapon appeals to the warrior in her that needs a better blade to fight the growing threats of her world, and she hesitates.

But the overpowering feeling of wrongness persists, and she shakes her head silently, watching without remorse as the Black Flash crushes it between Its palms, banishing it to oblivion.

It flicks Its fingers, dispersing little red sparks, and Nora feels emotion flood her as she registers the fact that It is _alive_.

With a gentle gesture, It encourages her to follow It. She obediently trails in Its wake, watching as It picks up Eobard's unmoving form and places him over one shoulder. There is no anger in Its movements; Its clawed grip doesn't even break the skin. Reserved is the only word Nora can think of, and as It vanishes, she knows where to go and find It.

In the Speed Force, the Black Flash eases Its burden to the invisible floor of the world. It steps back, waiting for a time, and when Eobard does not rise It steps forward. It grasps Eobard by the edge of his suit, hauling him effortlessly to his feet, and commands in a voice that is not a voice: _Awaken_.

Eobard blinks, inhales reflexively, and meets the Black Flash's gaze, confusion slowly furrowing his brow. He reaches out in wonder and puts both hands on the Demon's chest, finding solid flesh and bone beneath that indomitable suit. His expression twists, and for a moment Nora thinks he will strike the Black Flash, and reflexively she braces for impact.

Then he slumps forward, kneeling and putting his head in his hands, moaning in despair.

There is nothing supernatural about the way the Black Flash crouches beside him, folding Its legs until It looks almost like a child beside the man, trembling, anguished. The Black Flash is patient, and she stares in open bewilderment as It waits for something without movement, without hurry.

Gradually, she sinks down on Its other side, allowing It to form a physical wall between her and the man on Its other side. She feels It extend an arm, wrapping around Eobard's shoulders, and the force of Its lightning blanketing both of them. There is only forgiveness in Its aura, and she senses the anxiety pass from Eobard as he realizes it.

It strikes her, abruptly, that the man on the Black Flash's other side is the reason her dad is the Monster at all, and she expects outrage or fury to strike, but neither arrives. It's impossible to feel anger at Eobard's involvement with the Black Flash's presence between them. She wants to ask It a million questions – beginning with everything, absolutely everything, about the Multiverses, and the Speed Force, and herself and Eobard and every other person she has ever known – but keeps her silence.

At last, the Black Flash stands, and she watches as It pulls Eobard to his feet, and with one hand on his shoulder directs him to a place beyond her sightline, disappearing into the darkness.

Suddenly alone, Nora feels the nothingness surrounding her, the utter _emptiness_ that is the Speed Force in its most enigmatic state, and wonders if the crushing pressure in her chest will relent before it caves the whole thing inward. She looks around, searching for a lighthouse, and finds only darkness, and silence, and stillness. She wonders if there is anything to this place beyond that force-like-gravity, a non-entity masquerading as something mythical.

Then an ordinary fox slinks into view, a black fox with golden eyes. It pauses in front of her, gazing upward with golden, intelligent eyes.

 _We will show you the way home_ , the fox informs her in a soft, almost musical tone. _Follow us._

There is no one else present, but Nora knows that the Speed Force – for what else can it be, in this great void? – is plural. It is many beings yet one entity. Its oneness and manyness is surprisingly easy for her to swallow, like the duality of sunrise and sunset. She follows the fox, aware that everything around her is Speed Force, expecting the realization of its consciousness to knock her off her feet. It doesn't. It relaxes her, letting the tension ease from her shoulders.

When the fox picks up to a light jog, she follows, moving faster to catch its receding form. It outdistances her; she runs full-tilt in a futile attempt to keep up, failing as it disappears. Before she can call out, she finds the night she left surrounding her, cloaked in a familiar forest with the flickers of a familiar city shining in the distance.

She looks around, slowly, half-expecting it all to be a nightmare, and then she asks hesitantly, "Are you here?"

In response, the Black Flash steps forward from the shadows, Its aura calm and unpresumptuous.

Nora reaches out, hand extended hesitantly in front of her, and the Black Flash watches her fingers near Its shoulder, hesitant to confirm the terrible truth – before slowing letting her hand fall, mere inches from Its suit. "I trust you," she whispers.

Death stares at her, lifting a clawed hand and extending Its palm forward until It hovers over her own shoulder. She closes her own eyes, half-expecting to reappear in that dark other place. But the seconds pass in silence, and when she opens her eyes she sees It with both clawed hands clasped behind It, as unthreatening as It can be.

"You are who I think you are," she asks, her voice husked out, almost emotionless. "Right?"

The Black Flash nods once.

"You're my dad." Another nod. "And the Speed Force." In response, the Black Flash lifts Its right hand and allows Its fingers to flicker, little sparks of golden light appearing. " _Are_ you Death?"

The Black Flash looks around Itself, glancing thoughtfully up into the trees before returning in an instant, Its clawed hand holding a leaf. It decays before her eyes, withering into ashes as It lets It go. With a shrug, human in Its nonchalance, It looks at her expectantly, waiting for the new question.

She struggles to put her emotions into words. "Eobard killed you."

A nod.

"But you're – still here."

Another nod.

"How?"

The Black Flash gazes at her silently, blinking once. Then It extends a clawed hand, pointing a single finger at her. Lightning flashes in Its eyes, white dissolving into gold.

"Me?" The Black Flash nods again. Nora shakes her head. "I couldn't – I wasn't strong enough –" Throat tightening, she finishes, "I couldn't save you." Then, realization clicking, she adds, "But the Speed Force _could_."

The Black Flash nods.

Nora holds up her hands and watches the purple and golden light melt over them. She isn't even aware of her own breathing coming to a halt as time stills.

 _In this place,_ the Black Flash says, Its tone ethereal and yet recognizably her father's, _all is forgiven. Even Death._

It seems strange, paradoxical, but she looks into Its golden eyes and knows that it's true. She reaches forward cautiously, enveloping It in her arms. Reassured by Its solid, warm weight, she buries her face against Its shoulder, clinging to It.

Every time she hugs It, there is a tinge of desperation – never knowing if it will be the last time, fearing that a true end is inevitable – and she confesses softly, "I don't know how to lose you."

 _No one knows how to lose someone they love,_ the Black Flash admits. _We all have to learn. It takes time._

Nora's grip tightens. "Will I lose you?" she asks.

The Black Flash's clawed hand rests on the back of her shoulder, holding her, rocking her. It doesn't answer. Tears pool in her eyes. Sniffling, wanting to be in control, she says fiercely, "I lost you before. I don't want to lose you again."

 _Love is the most beautiful thing we have,_ the Black Flash replies, even softer than before. _It is the only reason we have the word "loss." And in the end, it is worth the pain of losing something to know the joy of loving it._ Thoughtfully, the Black Flash remarks, _Eobard held onto the painful memories. Sometimes we lose things we are unprepared to lose, and so we can never find a way to reconcile the hurt we exposed ourselves to by loving something in the first place. But memories of loss do not have to bring us pain every time. They can be loving, too; they can keep us warm on the coldest nights._

The sound of a soft wind rustling through the trees draws Nora's attention back to the world, and she finds herself standing several feet away from the Black Flash, safely distanced from the mortal threat. "I love you," she tells It sincerely, earnestly. A tear drips down her cheek. "I love you, Dad."

The Black Flash lays a hand over Its heart, gazing steadily at her, and turns slowly and disappears into the night, leaving her alone.

Aware of her aloneness and shivering in the cold, Nora makes her way back to the living world. A strange sense of peace settles over her, knowing that Eobard was wrong, and still Eobard was not condemned to suffer eternally for his crime.

 _Forgiveness is a type of love_ , Nora thinks, letting herself into the empty Cortex and the world that has been lost to her time, a snapshot moment labeled thirty-one-years-ago. Taking a seat at the console, she looks around at the empty world, at the living world, and muses, _Love is a kind of forgiveness_.

They trickle in – Aunt Caitlin, ever the early-riser; Uncle Cisco, yawning and slugging down coffee from a _Star Trek_ mug; Weird Uncle Harry, as the gang is fond of calling him and his many outlandish doppelgangers, palming a stress ball; Papa Joe, dutifully checking in before work; Uncle Ralph, stumbling over his shoelaces and faceplanting in the doorway; and her parents, inseparable, it seems. Mom looks relaxed and happy, so different from the quietly harried appearance Nora became so used to in the future. And Dad is irreconcilable: he's not the person she's called her father for twenty-five years, but somehow he _is_.

The mental pictures don't align. Barry is not the man in the suit, any more than the Black Flash is the man without it. There's a cosmic element to the Black Flash that can't be captured in a living being, yet his presence lingers: she recognizes the warmth that the Black Flash exudes in Dad's voice, the reassuring manner he takes in rallying the team, the cool confidence he brings to the table when presented with a new threat. He's not as refined as the Black Flash, lacks the glacial patience and abundant calm, the sense of having the literal transformative power of the Universe on his side – but he is the beginnings, and she loves that she doesn't have to worry about being too close to him, that she can hug him whenever she wants.

 _Keep this_ , she thinks, holding onto him, the living version that is so painfully fleeting no matter how often she dreams about the future. _Keep this, for the time when I can't hug you anymore_.

* * *

Invariably, she finds herself in that frozen place and time again and again, holding onto Death, accepting Its hold on her own life, and knowing above all that love is the only emotion It has left.

Love like loss, love like joy, love like knowing it's coming and daring to love anyway.

After Death, there's nothing left but the love to hold onto.

And Nora dares to love It.


End file.
